Ma Chérie
by Mrs.Hedlund2007
Summary: The daughter of the legendary Musketeer Porthos, Isabeaux, is caught in the whirlwind plan to break the King's twin from the Bastille, unknowingly. Soon though,she must decide whether her duty of being a well-breed woman can trump the desire of love.
1. Zéro

_**Ma Chérie**_

_Zéro_

_

* * *

__Some of this is legend, but at least this much is fact._

_ When rioting citizens of France destroyed the Bastille, they discovered within its records this mysterious entry:_

_**"Prisoner number 64389000, the Man in the Iron Mask."**_

_**

* * *

**_

**_Author's Note: Yes I know, very uninteresting. But it is the prologue to the movie, and so it will be for this fanficition. And this will be the only point in the whole series that I do this whole announcement that I do not own this story of _**_"The Man in the Iron Mask"** or any of it's characters. But anything else thus not mentioned in the movie is from my own research of the time period (or of the original **Three Musketeer** book). And then anything outside of that is a brainchild of my own creation, namely being our leading lady, Isabeaux (pronounced EE-sa-bow). So please enjoy the new fanfiction of mine, and most of all do not forget to favorite and message. The more feedback I get the better I can make this story, and any little bit of encouragement helps this penniless writer. Also for those of you who are not skilled in the French language, this title of this is "My Darling" and being direct to a female.**_

_**Ta ta for now!  
**_


	2. Un

**_Ma Chérie_**

_Un_

* * *

_Auvergne, France, 1662_

Restlessly I looked up and out of the window again, only to find still no sight of my father.

It'd been nearly a week since a last saw him. He told me he was going into Paris to check up on his old friends and attend to his stately affairs, as a Baron. In other words that meant my father, the legendary Musketeer Porthos, was going to go into the city to use my mother's Parisian home to cater to his drinking, sexual encounters with women, and then lastly seek out his aging friends and attend to any duties waiting for him…if he wasn't too drunk to remember them or remember he had left me in his country home.

Hopefully this visit won't end as the last one did, with Aramis escorting my father back to this very estate and telling me if it weren't for his history as a Musketeer he would have found his way into the Bastille.

"Mademoiselle?"

I jolted awake from my frustrated thoughts to find the head caretaker of the household standing not more than a foot away from me. She looked quite upset with her sharp and pointed features making her look more like a hawk than a woman, especially with her blonde wig piled high upon her head and the feathered hair pieces stuffed upon either side of her wig giving an appearance of inverted wings.

"Yes?" I breathlessly spoke, lowering my busy work of sewing to my lap. I had begun to sew yet another shirt for my father. According to Maria, the better my sewing skills were, the more desirable of a woman it would make me.

"I shall be leaving to the market shortly." She paused and starred at my hardly, as if I was supposed to do something in return, like protest or join her. "Before the sun's heat spoils the goods."

"Oh…" I let my eyes wander about her for a moment, still at a lost at what she was trying to hint to me through her intense stare of her emerald eyes.

She then let out a deep but inward groan," Mademoiselle, it is Monday, the day upon which your tutor and you work upon etiquette. And you have yet to show yourself in the foyer for your training." She then huffed lastly," If your father were here, he-"

"He would care less," I finished her blandly, as I carefully moved my needlework to the low sitting table besides my window seat bench. "Or have you forgotten about his unholy fornications he attends to whilst in Paris."

Her lips pinched and face reddened. Her arms straightened and her sides, while her finger tips angrily pinched together to keep the straightness of her arms. "Mademoiselle Isabeaux-"

But I cut her off again, as I stood up onto my heeled feet and used my palms to straighten out my heavily layered skirt. "Do not chide me, Madame!" I then angled my chin upwards and boldly, and most regally, starred up at her," Do not forget you work for my father who trusts me implicitly when it comes to the affairs of this estate."

Maria flinched, before she forced a curtsey to me. "Your tutor is waiting for you in the foyer."

"Inform Monsieur du Berry that I shall be in the foyer shortly." I now stared down at Maria in her deep and prefect curtsey, which she claimed was from her years of practicing and tutoring. "Also inform Phoebe to join me in my tutoring session."

"Yes, Mademoiselle." She the straightened up, keeping her eyes casted to the floor, obviously in fear of her position in this house. She was an aging woman, and not many families would hire her to keep watch upon their manors. The only reason she worked for my family now was because my mother, before her death, she recommended that Maria become head of the household when neither my father nor myself were present.

Maria lifted up the front of her skirt and quickly skittered out of my bedroom, carefully opening and closing the door behind her.

I took in a deep inhale of air to calm my nerves. Maria and I always butted heads, especially as I was getting older and my cultured. Maria claimed I had my father's unsightly bullheadedness whilst I had my mother's petite appearance with flaming red hair and alabaster skin. Some days though, I wish I had my father colossal body so I could strike people with force and handle a sword with more grace.

Yet upon dwelling momentarily upon violence in my thoughts, my eyes drifted to what also lied upon the table besides my sewing. A pamphlet which one of the elderly male neighbors brought for me so I had reading material.

The pamphlet was about the current crisis King Louis was facing in Paris and abroad. The current war with the Dutch, the food shortage across France from the army's constant need to enlarge their surplus, and the sudden Jesuit declaration of war. And now the ever increasing riots within Paris itself.

My thoughts now faded from anger to worry. If our king could not fix his problems in a timely manner the citizens would revolt and all would be lost. The country would enter a reign of terror. And I myself, did not want to be alive to see such visions. Nor did I want these fiends within Paris to somehow aggravate my ailing father into doing something all the more insane and finally lead him into the Bastille.


	3. Deux

**_Ma Chérie_**

_Deux_

* * *

_Auvergne, France, 1662_

I gave a loud heave, falling back into the chaise lounge after seeing my tutor Monsieur du Berry out of the manor. The shy bookworm man was beyond a bore to me, and could not teach me more than I already knew about etiquette and appropriate knowledge for a woman of my status. It was all so repetitive.

Phoebe, my most loyal of maids, giggled at my antics as she followed me and sat down beside me upon the lounge. But in a much more proper way, Phoebe sat with her back straightened and skirt perfectly smooth to her lap. A stranger would have thought that she the daughter of a Baron and me the maid.

"You shouldn't be so hard on the man," Phoebe gently patted my thigh, full of encouragement in her feathery light voice," any country girl would be more than delighted to have a man like Monsieur du Berry as a tutor."

"Yes, but I am not a simple country girl," I reminded her with a pouting expression. "I am the daughter of a bright baroness and a flamboyantly famous musketeer."

Phoebe gave a small shrug of her shoulders, still trying to remain positive," Well, I do appreciate that you allow me to be a part of your lessons, when my station wouldn't have normally allowed such offerings." She looked glum in remembrance of her birthright compared to mine. She was the daughter of a cook and a stable hand.

I sighed sitting up.

Phoebe, in her own way, always brought me back to reality and humility. She reminded me how good my life was, even if I wasn't the Queen of France. So in return, I educated her and exposed her to things most maids wouldn't have been exposed to. I just certainly hoped that one day, before I married, she would be able to find a good man who didn't work as someone's butler and worked as a craftsman. Someone who could give her wealth and as many children as she wanted.

"Oh, Phoebe, where would I be without you?" I humbly smiled back at Phoebe.

"You'd be at the King's summer celebration," she answered with a teasing grin. "You'd be hanging off the arm of some musketeer, whilst your father goes on a tirade about how no man is good enough for you."

I gave a groan of remembrance.

Last time I was in Paris, just before Athos's son, Raoul, was shipped off to war. And in a moment of weakness from both of us, we shared an intimate kiss, despite I knew he had another woman's heart.

My father of course discovered us in our not-so secret embrace in the middle of Athos's home. He went berserk and nearly threw Raoul into the table. Athos restrained my father and took him out into the street, where I said my final goodbyes to Athos and Raoul, before I retreated to the carriage with my cursing father. And together, in an uncomfortable carriage ride, we found our way back to the country estate.

"One day, your father will find a man of his liking for you," she assured me, resisting a sisterly hand upon my shoulder. "Until then, you'll just have to settle to the lectures of Monsieur du Berry and the advice of a simpleton maid."

I gave Phoebe a quick glance, as quickly assured her," Better your advice then that of a bitter old woman." I truly did appropriate Phoebe's words over Maria's any day. Even if Phoebe lacked Maria's age and experience, she made it up in an open heart and optimism.

Phoebe gave me a chastising stare," You should really keep such opinions to yourself, even if they are the truth." She the stood up, flattening out her skirt," Madame Maria Chevalier does try her hardest, Isabeaux. You aren't the easiest of persons for someone of her pedigree to get along with."

I gave a heave of agreement as I pushed myself back off of the chaise lounge, following behind Phoebe's lead.

"Where do you plan on going now?" She casually questioned me, as we both made our way to the grand hall.

"Back to my bedroom to sow," I answered with an ambivalent tone. I was honestly tired of the monotony of my life this past week. "What about you? Do you have duties to attend to?"

Phoebe nodded, clasping her hands together before her," I have the laundry to help Suzette with, as well as any other chore that you may put to my name."

I gave a nod of understanding and respectfully curtsied in her direction. "Until dinner then?"

"Until dinner, Mademoiselle," she agreed curtsying back to me, before we both drifted apart; me to my room and her to the back of the estate, where Suzette washed and hung the laundry in the summer heat.

But once again that child within me made me lose my humility once again. I found profound pleasure in knowing that when the heat became this strong, I did not have to go into it, unless I desired to subject myself to it. Plus the heat was always more bearable when dressed as a man, and unfortunately Suzette was to be washing my tailored trousers, shirt, and jacket since my last incident of dressing as a man. I had most ungracefully landed in a pile of horse manure from a failed riding lesson.

I hate horses.

Fortunately, for me, I do not think there is a penance to be paid for disliking that specific creature. And that shall certainly make attending religious services much easier, for I already have lots to pray for; most importantly my father's safe return from Paris.


	4. Trois

_**Ma Chérie**_

_Trois_

* * *

_Auvergne, France, 1662_

Nearly three weeks had passed since my father had left me here in the country and I was beginning to worry. There was no correspondence from him nor from anyone else who would be able to tell me of my father's whereabouts.

Not even Aramis sent me his typical correspondence.

And this was most unusually odd, for he, out of all of my father's confidants, kept regular contact with me. For with my increasing age and intelligence, Aramis and I were able to trade conversations about society, religion, and the sciences. And with Raoul's recent recall back to the battlefield by his Majesty, King Louis, I had become more vocal and distressed about such news. And Aramis was always there to ease my troubled thoughts and inspire me with new dreams.

But I did receive one letter that was out of the blue, from the Captain of the King's guards, D'Artagnan. And his letter did not come with good news.

He told me of Raoul's death in battle and that I should come to Paris to help comfort Aramis and give him a hand in his household. But then he told me that he was in search of my father to share the tragic news and to write to him if I knew where he was.

After shedding tears for the loss of Raoul, who had been a childhood lover of mine and cousin through paternal friendship, I gathered up my senses and my writing tools.

Appropriately I responded that the last I heard of my father he was heading to Paris and that upon my father's return I would come to Paris to reunite with my "uncles". And during this time if Aramis saw fit, I would help him attend to his household.

Yet as I sent this off to be posted back to D'Artagnan, I found a series of men with black carriages coming to the estate.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**__** After receiving a message, user Gottingen gave me some very thoughtful information. So all the chapters before this have been edited to be more accurate to the customary French verbiage. **_

_**Adios, everyone!  
**_


	5. Quatre

_**Ma Chérie**_

_Quatre_

_

* * *

Auvergne, France, 1662_

Nervously Phoebe and several of the other maids crowded behind me in the sunny courtyard of the country estate. But besides me, Maria stood in support with a leery eye.

We had come outside to see who had arrived at our home, and without proper notice. For it was very unusual to have any guests at all, let alone guests that we did not know from previous experiences. So this was quiet an event for the whole property and those who lived within its confines.

From around the stables our male stable hands approached with various tools at the ready to defend me and the women. For the strangers were most peculiar in their silence and hidden faces. To say the least, their act was quiet threatening and imposing to the simple minded country folks, who had never seen such figures before.

A dark cloaked man jumped off of his seat as driver of the first of three carriages, and inquired hastily, as he kept his distance," Mademoiselle Isabeaux?"

"I am she," I answered firmly, hoping that my dress that matched several of the other maids' wouldn't make me look any less of a serious woman. "What business do you have here?"

"I come with a letter from your father, the Baron." His black cape billowed behind him, as he rushed to me before falling to his knee. He leather gloved hand held out the letter for me to take. A simple, clean, and crisply folded parchment piece with my name scrawled upon it not in my father's writing, and unfamiliar wax seal shutting it.

I reached down and quickly unfolded the letter, letting my eyes hastily absorb the handwriting style. It was not my father's at all but at the bottom of the letter was my father messy scrawl in the shape of a quick note and his signature.

So I began to read it the familiar yet strange lettering, upon the top of the note.

**_Isabeaux,_ **

**_Give room and board to these men and appease these men in material objects they may need. Your father and I will be arriving within a few days' time, and until then do not ask much of these men and their reasons for arriving at your home._ _Also please have three more additional rooms at the ready, for your father and I are bringing Athos and a friend with us._ _Until we arrive do not alert anyone to this letter or our impending arrival._ **

**_With Love, _**

**_Aramis, General of the Order of the Jesuits_**

My eyes bulged. Aramis was making a point by signing his name in such a manner. He was telling me that I was being taken over by Jesuits, who were apart of some Jesuit assault or conspiracy. And to add further shock, my father and his friends were stupid enough to risk me and the whole establishment my mother's family had for generations protected.

Yet I forced myself to look at the second half of the letter, where I spotted my father's handwriting. It was much larger, messier, and harder to decipher.

**_My Daughter, _**

**_I will explain everything upon arriving at our country home. But until then, do listen to what Aramis has written and allow these men lodgings. In the mean time make sure you restock the food. And the wine! _**

**_Your father, _**

**_Porthos  
_**

I blinked, in a mild defeat. I could not directly disobey my father's orders, without suffering an embarrassing defeat at the hands of these Jesuit rebels.

So I handed the letter off to Maria, to see for herself, while I looked down at the man still kneeling before me. Yet I noticed all of the men still in their carriages were staring at me harshly. It was obvious they did not trust me nor found my home to their liking.

I heard Maria inhale sharply as she read the letter. But I ignored her outburst, as I looked back at the cloaked figure, kneeling before me. I was not going to allow them to intimidate me out of my own home.

"How long do you and your men plan upon staying, Monsieur?" I questioned the crouched figure stubbornly.

"As long as need be, Mademoiselle." He murmured back respectfully, looking at my skirt.

I gave a nod, before announcing to him," While you and your men are here, I expect for you all to be tidy and to chip in with my other workers to keep this property clean, until you depart my home."

"Of course, Mademoiselle." The stranger began to peel himself up from the compacted dirt at my feet.

I gave a simple nod, before taking the letter from Maria's trembling hand, as she looked at me with breathless and horrified shock. I didn't think she was shocked by willingness to let these men into our home, but I think she was frightened of what this could possibly result in.

And for once I agreed with her. Our content lives now all shared an uncertain future with these radical rebels.

Yet instructed her, calmly and forcefully," Have the maids begin to ready the guest rooms and my father's lodgings. Please do make sure there are also three bedrooms set aside for my father's closer friends."

"Yes… Mademoiselle," Maria gulped in a terrified obedience before she turned back to the women behind me ushering them back into the house quickly. Even Phoebe seemed a little nervous, despite her natural optimistic disposition.

But I am sure they were all greatly relieved to be away from these strange men that had gotten Maria in such a fluster.

I then took a look back at the dark figure that was now upon his feet, and announced to him," You and your men may take your carriages to the stable. Then I will have the maids give your men the appropriate rooms for you to lodge in."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Mademoiselle." He tipped his hat in my direction, obviously appreciating that I had not given him a hard time. I'm sure his order of Jesuits faced enough problems as it was.

I watched him as he retreated back to his carriage, before rousing his horses and leading the three carriage caravan around to the stables. This sent my male protectors of the estate scurrying off to the stables behind them to tend to their new duties.

Suddenly this thrill of doing something so risqué got to me. I couldn't stop but smiling at the men as they passed me by. I couldn't wait to spy and try to overhear what sort of mission they were up to.

Oh, how the life of a man on the run must be so thrilling!


	6. Cinq

**_Ma Chérie_**

_Cinq_

* * *

_Auvergne, France, 1662_

Just as my father and Aramis wrote they were there by the end of the week, making it a month since I had been in the presence of my father.

But as the sun's dimming rays danced into my bedroom window, it blocked my initial vision of the arrival of the new carriage. Another black covered carriage.

Yet after seeing one of the Jesuit men help Athos from the carriage, then followed by Aramis, I knew they had lived up to their word. They were all to be returning today, with their guest.

So I rushed down the stairs and found my way to the dirt path of the courtyard, only to find my father helping a cloaked figure whose steps were wobbly and he didn't dare look up near the sky.

For a moment I thought the figure was a drunkard and possibly one of my father's drinking partners.

But I ignored this stranger, as he uneasily wobbled from side to side after he stepped off of the carriage and onto the ground.

"Father!" I beamed, arms wide open as I rushed between Aramis and Athos, and brushed past the cloaked man to my father.

"Isabeaux!" He cheered back, wrapping his arms around me and lifting me up, like he did when I was a child. Even when I told him to not strain his back, as he got older, he insisted upon lifting me up. He always did, and recently I begun to theorize it was a way for he to think I was still his baby daughter and to think he was still youthful. "Ma Chérie, Isabeaux!"

"You were gone for so long!" I kissed his shaven cheek. "You really worried me this time, especially when D'Artagnan sent me a letter."

Instantly my father dropped me upon my feet, his face was wrought with worry," What did you write back to him?" He held me out at arm's length in an obvious worry I would say something he didn't want D'Artagnan to know about.

I rolled my eyes, and I assured my father," I didn't know anything at the time, and told him simply you were in Paris like you have been for the past month."

My father breathed a loud sigh of relief, while he let go of me and reached around me to placing an urge hand upon the cloaked figure. The mystery figure, I now noticed, was looking in my direction. Or at least his darkened mass of a face was tilted in my direction.

"Bonjour!" I stepped away from my father and towards the individual, whose face still eluded me. But I kept a friendly smile upon my lips," I am Isabeaux. What is your name, if you don't mind me asking?" I clasped my hands before in a welcoming manner, readying myself to reach out and shake the stranger's lean and dirty fingers.

"Ahh…"

But before the pleasantly timbered voice could answer, Aramis came to the figure's side and firmly told me," Isabeaux, we are on important business right now. This is not a time for your kind words." I could see he was serious about not wanting me to fraternize with this person, whoever it may be.

I narrowed my eyes upon Aramis, suddenly feeling insulted. Aramis obvious trusted me to keep his secret but not that of his guest. "You'd prefer my kind words over my flaring temper." I then threatened, despite his passive expression he now gave me," You are in my house, need you've forgotten. And I have a right to throw you out if I see fit."

Suddenly Athos's hand came up and enclosed my arm, instantly calming me. "I'll take your kind words, while your father and Aramis take care of our friend." He begun to urge me back towards the grand entrance of the manor.

I heaved and took Athos's hand lovingly into mine, before glancing back at the stranger who was still looking at me. "I am Mademoiselle of this house, for your awareness. And I certainly do hope we can carry a longer conversation, once my father and his friends have had their way with you." Once again I let a kind and encouraging smile touch my lips, as I tried to remain polite to the guest.

The cloaked figure starred at me a moment longer, before I gave a slight curtsey to the guest and led Athos into my country home.

Yet my initial happiness of seeing Athos was soon deluded, for the memory of his dead son, whom now haunted my thoughts. So, as soon as we were within the quiet foyer, I turned to Athos's silent form and cooed to him," I heard about Raoul."

He bowed his head to me, and held both of my hands within his. Words need not describe the feeling of despair I could see and feel coming from one of my beloved uncles.

"It would please me very much if you stayed here," I paused as I spotted Aramis, my father, and the stranger making their way to the foyer as well. But I added quietly and quickly, to Athos," I do not like the thought of you being alone in Paris, during these times."

As the three figures came into the foyer, Athos gave me a bittersweet smile, before leaning over to kiss my forehead. "Maybe, after this mischief Aramis has gotten us into, I will take you up on your offer, Ma Chérie Isabeaux."

I smiled in a quiet relief that Athos was not so frantic in grief that he did not sense his well-being would be at risk during this dark time for him.

Yet on cue, Maria and a handful of maids rushed in. Of course the maids that arrived were my father's favorites. And they all shared a similar look. Look of a voluptuous young woman with full lips and loose morals. They were his country whores, who he did not pay in gold but by giving them a stable job, warm bed, and plenty of food to keep them plump.

The only reason I did not see cause to fire them was for the fact that, when my father was not around, they were pleasant women to be around. And they never once complained about their duties in caring for this home.

But when they were in company of my father, I found their personalities rather obnoxious. So I forced a polite smile to the women, as the four men filed into the foyer in a huddles mass, guarding the cloaked figure.

I then motioned to Maria, and announced to the men," You all remember to caretaker of the estate, Madame Maria Chevalier. Please if you need anything ask her, and she will inform the maids of your needs."

"We will need the kitchen to be emptied of staff," Aramis began very sternly and demandingly, making Maria scowl. "My friends and I will need the room for usage."

But Maria remained scowling at him, as she clasped her hands together before," Monsieur, dinner is in preparation right now and I will not allow this household to go hungry."

"I agree," I interjected, as I detached myself from Athos and looked at Aramis stubbornly. "Before you men return to your secretive acts, you are all in need of a warm meal! And you will not tell the people of this household when they can or cannot eat. For only my father and me have the ability to withhold meals in this household."

Aramis sent a glance to my father to help him in his invasion of the kitchen.

But my father gave a careful glance between the Aramis and myself, before mumbling in an honest tone," I am a wee bit hungry, Aramis. And in some need of the local wine."

Aramis gave a loud huff of dislike, before declaring in submission," Then upon kitchen no longer being in usage for tonight's dinner, my men and me will be in need of its privacy."

I gave a smile of acceptance in Aramis's answer, allowing Maria to bow as well in submission," That we can accommodate, Monsieur." And as she straightened back up into her perfectly held posture, she gave a motion to the eager maids behind her," Do you wish for my Mademoiselles to escort you men to your respective chambers?"

Finally though, Athos intervened, giving a kind but tired expression to Maria and the maids," I believe we shall find our rooms on our own, for tonight."

"Do you wish for the Mademoiselles to escort you from your rooms to dinner, perhaps?" Maria questioned again, glancing about the men carefully. For it was a tradition of my father to be escorted from wherever he was on the estate to dinner, either by me or one of the other women on the staff.

My father was about to answer with happy compliance, but Athos intervened again. "We shall dine in our rooms tonight, Madame Chevalier. We have only one need to leave our rooms tonight, at that is when the galley has been freed from usage." He gave a kind half-smile to Maria.

With that my father gave a loud groan of defeat, before announcing to his lover maids that were also beginning to pout from this news," I am sorry for the inconvenience tonight, Mademoiselles." He then gave a glance in my direction," Please accept my apology, Ma Chérie." He let a sad little smile touch his mustache covered lips.

I gave another respectful curtsy to my father," I do hope in the morning we shall be able to share a meal together."

"Me too, Ma Chérie. Me too."

With that, my father, Aramis, Athos, and their strangely cloaked guest all moved soundlessly past me, Maria, and our small posse of maids.

But I noticed, as I watched them venture their way up the grand staircase, that the unknown man's shoes were of that of the peasant class. Nothing more than a cloth rag wrapped about his dirty feet.

And as I excused Maria and the maids, I couldn't help but ponder more so what was so important that they had to have the kitchen all to themselves. All that was in there was a rectangular table for food preparations, pots and pans, and of course a large fire pit that was too hot to use in these summer months.

But whatever the excuse was to use that room specifically puzzled me and I didn't have the mind for puzzles. But I did have the mind for spying. So I vowed to myself that when the Musketeers and their guest were to be in the galley, then I would spy upon them and receive the answers that they were withholding from me.

It was my turn to be my own man. I was not going to be the obedient daughter anymore. My life had finally taken an interesting turn, for once, and I was not going to let this chance pass by.

_**Author's Note: Currently I am trying to review what I have written to try and put appropriate terminology within the vocabulary used by the characters. But in the meantime I will be posting what I have completed and eventually replaces the older chapters with the new wording.**_


	7. Six

**Ma Chérie**

_Six_

_

* * *

Auvergne, France, 1662_

For what felt like hours, I waited in secret, within a dim hallway; waiting to spot the Musketeers and their mystery guest to enter to empty kitchen.

I had already been unlucky enough to have Phoebe find me in the hallway as she finished her duties for the day. But upon explaining to Phoebe my reasoning, she decided to join me in this crusade, claiming I needed an aid in this ordeal.

Yet I was beginning to suspect the only reason she was hiding besides me in the hallway was that she was acting as a spy on the behalf of all the other maids, who had been gossiping since the stranger's arrival.

But then my senses sprung to life when I heard the first sounds of movement down at the opposite end of the hallway.

Carrying a single candle, my father was leading the way, narrowing his eyes to try and spot the kitchen door in the darkness. Behind him I could see Aramis and Athos both escorting a raggedy clothed figure…whose face was still obscured by something that had wrapped completely around his face, like a mask.

"What in the heavens…" Phoebe whispered, as she peered around me obviously spotting the oddness of the unknown man.

But I bit back my own comment, trying to keep silent. But I too shared distrust in Aramis's reasons for having a ill clothed man within my household. Especially a man with a mask on.

Yet just as quickly as they entered the hallway, my father found the door mumbling something about not being able to see it before. He then labored as he pulled open the heavy wooden door, before waving his comrades into the darkened room. And with that he pulled the door shut with hardly a noise giving away, as they had reached their destination.

Without a thought of a doubt, I began to creep closer to the kitchen door, but Phoebe grabbed a hold of my wrist.

"Maybe we should wait here…" Phoebe began with hesitation in her softly pitched voice. "And wait to see when they come out."

I rolled my eyes, as I freed my hand from her grip to use that hand to close my robe over my nightgown. "I am going to get a better look at what they are doing."

Phoebe gave a pathetically unsure expression, before she picked up her skirt and skittered behind me. And like two mice, we followed the wall down to the kitchen door.

I could barely overhear the hushed low voices of the men, but I could hear the crackling of the fire pit coming to life, which lit up the gaps around the door.

Together Phoebe and I pressed our ears against the wall, but as the crackling of the fire grew louder, it became harder to overhear the conversation, which sounded most likely orders from Aramis to the others.

So I did something daring. I crept up to the door, and rested my hand upon the handle.

Phoebe let out a silent pleading gasp, but I had to ignore her, feeling the need that now more so than ever, I needed to have the courage of a man.

In a near painful silence, I managed to pry the door out of its position and open it up a sliver. Allowing me to peer into the room, right where I could see the fire pit.

But my heart jumped to my throat at what I spotted. Aramis stood beside it, with a slight hammer in his hands, while Athos tended to the fire, as it lit up the dark room. But between the two men, was my father easing the ill clothed man onto a stool.

He was whispering something in a pleasant tone to the mystery guest, as he stepped away to reveal that the guest's head had been encased in what looked like a skin tight metal helmet.

I gawked in horror, as I left my body, and let my mind become completely taken over by the sight before me.

The man anxiously knitted his hands before him, as if he was murmuring a prayer.

Then I could finally manage to make out one phrase from the quietly mumbling men.

"It's warm enough," I heard Athos announce, silencing all the other men, even the one in his metal prison.

With that, Aramis guided the unknown man back against the brick shelter of the fire. Yet my vision became obscured, as my father came around, holding down the shoulders and torso of the man. Athos then finally shielded this figure's form completely from me, as he held down the rest of the man's body.

After several quiet tense moment, I had forgotten my situation. I was entranced by the bizarre sight before me, and could not tare my eyes away from it.

But with Aramis's back to me, I could see him raise his slender hammer in the air. Yet before I could process what he was doing, a loud clash of two metals echoed through the air.

It shocked my body so, that I fell back into Phoebe.

Luckily for me though, Phoebe was strong enough to brace the both of use against the wall, preventing any unnecessary noises from being created.

Another smashing noise echoed through the air, as did deep raggedy gasps that I was sure belonged to their hostage.

"What is going on in there?" Phoebe questioned me with a feverish fear taking over her voice, while the two of us grasped at one another.

I struggled to find my voice for a moment, while another wave of noises echoed through the still household.

Yet the gargled sound of pain from the mystery man made a new sensation rush through me. That of anger. I didn't understand how my father and his closest friends could be a part of such barbarity. Especially within my home.

I found strength to pull myself from Phoebe, and pressed myself back against the ajar door.

Another crack echoed through the air, but the noise was different this time. It sounded as if one of the metals had finally given out and broke.

With this Aramis lowered his hammer, but the masked man kept struggling against my father and Athos, as Aramis stepped away from the group.

Then my father reached about to the back of the man's caged head, and fiddled with the broken metals, before pulling apart the outer cage that enclosed all sides of the man's head. As my father pulled this away, stepping back besides Aramis, I could see long, dirty, tangled masses of what looked to be ochre colored hair.

I could see the man's hand reach and grasp Athos's wrist, as he kept panting.

But Athos left the emotionally gripping hand upon his wrist, as he reached about and carefully removed the heavy and crude metal mask from the face.

I squinted to try and get a better view of the face that had been obscured to me. But I could hardly tell the features of the face, for the tangled masses of hair had grown over his face, as had his beard taken over his lower portion of his face. But there was one thing I knew for sure. There was not a single gray hair to be had. This man was young and seemed to have been in that mask for a long time.

Athos, showing his paternal instincts, carefully brushed some of the hair out of the gasping man's eyes. And I could momentarily spot in Athos's shadow shrouded face, that he missed his son greatly. And being in the presence of this young man reminded him of Raoul.

With that my heart gave another emotional pitter-patter against my breasts, while Athos helped urge the young man back up straight again.

The young man's breathing slowly began to shallow, as Athos, Aramis, and my father stepped before the young man. Each of them though seemed to be in a silent distress, as they looked back at the hairy young man.

So I narrowed my eyes again, trying hard to disconcert anything about the man's face that would be familiar to me.

But in the darkness of the night and with the mass of hair covering most of his face, I could hardly understand this man's importance to be freed from a metal mask.

Yet, during my time of observation, the young man had brought his shaking fingertips to his face. At first his fingertips only hovered over his face, showing a fear of what had been hidden beneath the mask. But he finally gathered enough courage to press his fingertips against his face, and as a result he let out the loudest of contented sighs. And with a newfound eagerness and energy, he brushed his fingers quickly once more across his face.

"What is going on in there?" Phoebe pestered me again, as she poked my side in reminder that she was still there, spying with me.

I swallowed my nerves, as I watched the young man push himself up from his stool and with new strength in his steps found his way over to a water bucket that was to be cooking water.

"He had a metal cage around his face," I begun in a whisper, making sure my voice did not carry into the kitchen. "And they took it off."

"And?" Phoebe pestered further. "What does he look like?" It seemed as if she had not been phased at all by the notion someone's head had been covered in a metal mask. But then again, I am sure the maids she would be reporting back to would only be interested in the appearance of our stranger and not that of his circumstance.

"Young," I answered, as my eyes followed the man as his hands gripped the edge of the tub and looked directly into it. "But his hair is covering up most of his face."

Yet as the young man peered over the bucket, his body suddenly went tense then limp. And before I knew what was happening, his body simply fell to the ground like a limp ragdoll.

Not ever witnessing anyone do such a thing before, I found myself letting out a squeal of the sudden freight.

And instantaneously, the door opened, bathing Phoebe and me in the fire light. We had been discovered.

Standing in the doorway was my father, with a scowl upon his aged face. He then gave a firm motion in the direction of the servant quarters," Phoebe, I suggest you send yourself to bed. And speaking of this to no one."

Phoebe gulped loudly, before she fell into a deep curtsey. "Yes, Monsieur." She then rushed down the hallway with such speed one would have thought she was being chased by death itself.

My father then sent a glance down towards me, now scowling heavier. "Isabeaux, you disappoint me."

I straightened myself up, standing as tall as I could. I smoothed out my nightgown and robe, before answering respectfully," I am sorry to have disappointed you, father. But I was curious." I then paused and added for Phoebe's sake," And Phoebe did not see anything. She was merely a look-out for me. So, do not punish her for my sins."

My father heaved quickly in defeat to me, before tucking me under his red velvet clad arm. We both turned then to face into the kitchen to find Athos was at work rousing the collapsed man from the floor. He even had covered him up in his heavy forest green overcoat.

"Isabeaux, you will tend to our guest for your penance," my father began, as he motioned his massive gloved hand to Athos and the guest.

Aramis then gave me a soft glance, as he added, with a most serious tone," You will share this secret with us now, Isabeaux. For better or for worse."

I nodded in understanding, as I looked back at the ragged young man and Athos, who was now helping him onto his feet.

"I will also send some of my men up with shears to help clean up our guest," Aramis added quietly, as Athos glanced over at me, obviously waiting to be led to the guest's room.

Yet the nameless young man noticed my presence now, and slowly brought his gaze to mine.

His deep haunting blue eyes starred at me with a quiet interest, but he had been in desperation for so long and his news did not glow the way most people's did.

So I decided to extend the first warm and kind gesture to this imprisoned man. "Please follow me, Monsieurs," I stepped out from under my father's arm and motioned for the Athos and the young man to follow me into the hallway.

Yet as they did, I notice the nameless man's eyes stayed upon me.

And suddenly, I realized that whoever this man was, I was now tied to him forever by this simple experience of watching him be freed from his cold, crude, metal prison.


	8. Sept

**_Ma Chérie_**

_Sept_

* * *

_Auvergne, France, 1662_

"In here," I urged, as I opened the doors into the nameless man's chamber. But dumbly I stood there, watching as Athos had to guide the swaying and wobbling form of the young man to the small writing desk that was already graced with goblet and drink.

Yet I forced myself out of my daze, as I shut both of the doors behind me, before quickly scurrying across the room to the table. But I awkwardly kept my distance, not wanting to push myself upon either Athos or the young guest.

Thought both Athos and the young man ignored my presence near them, I watched as Athos began to pour water into a goblet.

"Here." He then set it down before our guest, and inclined it towards him. Obviously urging him to take a drink. "Drink."

Our guest then pulled his hands out from beneath Athos's heavy coat, and took the silver goblet shakily from the table top.

Yet as he brought it up to his lips, be began to tilt the goblet back to let the water enter his mouth. But something happened, and he sputtered water all over himself, like a baby would.

The young man began to cringe and shake in obvious embarrassment, as he dropped the goblet back onto the counter and brought a hand back up to his hair covered face.

Yet Athos was there to save the situation…like any good father does.

"It's all right," Athos assured gently, as he brushed the water droplets off of the young man's rags that clothed him. But then he did something I saw him do with Raoul as a child. Bring him hand up to the young man's chin and carefully brush off the water droplets that remained there.

Suddenly though, Athos pulled himself away. As if he too suffered the memory of his dead son. Athos pulled himself away from the mystery man, and glanced back the closed doors, in obvious anxiousness for Aramis's men to hurry up so he would no longer have to watch the mystery man.

Athos than glanced at me, as if in warning to me. That he could not bear the sight of this young man who reminded him so of Raoul. Yet even in the better light, I could not see a resemblance at all.

"I have waited six years," the young man, in his hunched poster began, as he looked down at the goblet that had mocked him," to ask this question."

I blinked, inclining my head in his direction, finding his voice extremely pleasant. But I also was naturally curious as to what he was speaking of.

He then lifted his head up, and glanced deliberately at Athos and myself. "Why was this done to me?"

I blinked, bowing my head in defeat. For I did not know the answer, nor did I want to. I could not bear the thought of caging someone in such a manner.

But Athos's expression quickly to change to that of shock. For now I believed he knew the exact reason why this man had been in his prison.

I twisted my head eagerly to look at Athos and hear the reason why this man was imprisoned and then brought to my home.

From the corner of my eyes, I caught the young man soundlessly shaking his head in his own curious defeat.

"What do you remember?" Athos carefully countered, avoiding my stare all together.

Once again, I looked back at the young man, who took in deep breath as he looked back at the table top. His fingers nervously fiddled with the fraying hem of his sleeve, as he seemed to be taking some time in trying to remember the memories of six years prior.

"I lived in a country house," he began with a deep sigh of release. Yet I caught his eyes glancing in my direction," Much smaller and less grand than this one."

I nodded in understanding and encouragement, as I waited for more of his story.

But his glance tore away from mine and back to Athos, as he spoke more firmly," I had guardians, an old woman and a priest…but…"

Suddenly he lost his spark again, and gave another sigh of deep release, before looking back down at the table top. "But no friends."

I swallowed uncomfortably. For even in my country prison, I had friends…people I could confide in and talk to.

"Then they came and took me to the prison." He began with his continuously sad memories.

"Who came?" Athos questioned with careful interest still.

"A man in black," he paused to take a quick breath, as if the memories still haunted him. "I never saw his face." He paused again," But he took me to the prison, and he put me into the mask."

Athos then questioned again," And you don't know why?"

Suddenly I snapped my own face over to Athos scowling heavily. It was obvious that this young man didn't know why. Not even I knew why.

But then again…I could not see what face lied beneath the additional mask of hair.

Suddenly the young man gained a spark again to his being, as he answered back Athos quickly," For days I shouted, 'What have I done?'" He struggled to take a calming breath, before declaring quietly," Then I realized that there was something about my face, which had to be hidden." He then glanced over at me and finished," But I never knew what it was."

Thus, while I had his attention, I questioned him softly," What is your name?"

The young man looked a little taken back by this, but he inclined his head back and closed his eyes. Once again looking as if he was struggling to remember memories.

"The old woman called me…" he trailed off, before opening his eyes, as he looked at me then Athos," Philippe."

As I smiled wider, for I was now encouraged at my prospects of trying to make this man comfortable during his stay at my home. After all…I hardly ever had guests to entertain.

Suddenly a loud knock echoed from the closed doors.

But Athos rushed over and pulled the door open, revealing two of Aramis' Jesuit men. Armed not with black cloaks but rather with a mirror, some shaving cream, and various shears. All things I knew well from watching my father as a child.

"These men are going to help clean you up." Athos announced to Philippe, as the two men squeezed into the small chamber. "They won't harm you."

Yet as the two men starred on at Philippe in a leery disgust, I noticed Philippe's head drop once again in embarrassment.

So before Athos escaped this room, I boldly interjected," I can help, Philippe. We won't be needing two extra helping hands." I gave a glance to the two Jesuits," Please, leave your things upon the table. I am skilled enough in grooming to attend to Philippe."

The Jesuits looked at Athos for clearance on such an action.

Athos nodded in a final defeat, before motioning to the table. "Leave the things for Mademoiselle Isabeaux upon the table."

So the two men bobbed their heads in unison, before skittering over to the table, carelessly dropping the items besides Philippe's slumped form then rushing back out of the room, leaving me alone with Athos and Philippe again.

"Is that all, Ma Chérie Isabeaux?" Athos questioned me with a sad little smile. I could feel the stress of Raoul's loss, as he remained in my presence and the presence of Philippe, who was just as soft spoken as Raoul had been before his death.

I nodded in return to Athos.

Athos nodded back, as he clasped the door handle, readying himself out the room.

But suddenly a small voice echoed through the room. "Thank you." And as I looked back I saw Philippe looking at Athos and me. "Thank you for your kindness you both have given me."

Yet I glanced over at Athos, to see his response. And to my sadness, Athos only nodded his head to Philippe before walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him.

I closed my eyes, and took a deep calming breath. My thoughts were fuzzy from the confusion of Philippe's story and the memories of Raoul. So I forced myself to dwell upon my new goal. To aid Philippe in finding out his reason for being taken to a prison and kept hidden from the world.

I then spun around upon my slippers, and gave Philippe a wide grin. I forced myself to no longer dwell upon the sad memories that seem to haunt each of the men in my care. "Shall be begin, Monsieur?"


End file.
